In Want Of A Wife
by sylc
Summary: Anti-OC  original character , homophobic, sexist Legolas goes in search of a wife.


Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood, was in want of a wife.

Unfortunately, he had an aversion to OCs, and maidens of the time, especially unwed elf-maidens, consisted almost entirely of OCs. Indeed, in Mirkwood, a maiden who was not an OC was unheard of and if any of the maidens had heard of the Prince's real reason for turning up his perfectly shaped nose and tossing his blond hair as he stalked away from them, they would have most likely been extremely insulted and banded together against him and women's lib would have come a lot sooner to Mirkwood.

The situation looked dire. Not even Thranduil's attempts to convince his son through tentatively raised private discussions that OCs were not evil, despicable creatures had any effect on Legolas's illogical prejudice. But as we all know, ideas not put in one's head by logic are seldom removed by logic. In truth, Thranduil would have been better off hitting his son over the head with his gold sceptre - perhaps to death. Unfortunately the King had lost his sceptre in the sleepy river some years earlier and was still waiting on his OC artisan for a replacement.

One day, after a particularly heated argument (neither father nor son were good at holding in their tempers) and ensuing long silence, Thranduil began tapping his foot loudly on the dais of his throneroom and drumming his fingers on the plump gold arms of his far too big throne. "Legolas, what am I to do with you?"

"Find me a wife," Legolas replied from where he sat on the steps by Thranduil's feet and examining his arrows. "She must be elvish, she must be beautiful, she must be talented - though not more so than I, and above all, she must not be an OC."

"Just because you consider the OC ailment a sign of evil does not mean the one who suffers from it is evil."

"The disease is evil and the one who suffers from it is evil. I will not wed an OC."

"Then, I fear, Legolas, my dear, that you shall have to leave Mirkwood to find your wife, for according to your mother..." At this point, Legolas twitched, for his mother was an OC, "...for according to your dear mother, there is no female, elf or orc or dwarf or human, in Mirkwood that is not an OC."

"Oh, how tiresome!" Legolas exclaimed. "Father, I do not want to leave Mirkwood. I am sure there is a maiden who is not an OC somewhere in the kingdom!"

"There is not. As I said, your mother..."

"I do not trust the words of a diseased OC! There must be a female somewhere in the realm who is not so afflicted."

Thranduil gave a great sigh and wondered what had happened between the Queen and Legolas to cause Legolas to loathe her so much in addition to her OCness. "I will check the census," he said finally with a great sigh, and he waved to his butler, Galion, who was waiting in the corner - the only audience to this father-son exchange, indicating that Galion was to go find the last census of Northern Mirkwood and bring it to him. Galion bowed gracefully and disappeared through a side door. Thranduil looked back at Legolas. "Legolas."

"Aye?"

"What if the census states indeed, as your mother says, that there are no OC females in Mirkwood?"

"Then I suppose I shall have to leave, for I must have a wife."

"Must?"

"Indeed."

"Is there, perhaps, a reason why you suddenly have this burning urge to find yourself a lady?"

"Nay, nay."

"Truly?"

"Well, I suppose I would like to see the face of a maiden who is not diseased," Legolas said with a great sigh. Then he suddenly smiled when he saw the side door open and the butler return to them. "Oh look! Galion has returned! Come, Galion, what is your news? Is there or is there not a female who is not an OC in this kingdom?"

Two months later, Legolas found himself standing on the borders of Lothlórien and speaking to three tall handsome strapping marchwardens named Haldir, Orophin, and Rúmil. He was being admitted.

Two months and a week later, Legolas again found himself standing on the borders of Lothlórien and speaking to three tall handsome strapping marchwardens named Haldir, Orophin, and Rúmil. He was being asked to leave. Celeborn had disagreed with his advances on his lady, Galadriel.

Haldir, one of the wardens, escorted him out of the forest to the Gap of Rohan, through which Legolas would make his own way to the elven realms in Eriador and Lindon, his next self-declared regions to comb. "I thought you said you were searching for an unmarried maiden," he told Legolas as they parted ways and Haldir turned to head back to his own realm.

"I did."

"So why did you enter Lady Galadriel's talan?"

"I thought Lord Celeborn was dead and that she had bewitched his corpse, thus making her a widow." On seeing Haldir's incredibly offended look, Legolas added, in his normal unthinking manner, "Well, he does look a little grey about the edges and speaks like a Barrow-wight. Also he wears a funeral gown. Why are you reaching for your bow? Is there something good to shoot out here? Just good sport or good to eat as well?"

Haldir twitched, his hands shook on his bow and the arrow that he had set to the trembling string, and then he suddenly relaxed and put the arrow back in his quiver. "Go now," he said, and when Legolas was out of earshot, he added, "and please do not return... or wed, for that matter, for no maiden deserves such an obnoxious fool."

Legolas trotted up the Greenway (he determinedly avoided the entirely OC elven clans at the south of Eriador), and on finding himself at the Great East-West Road, decided to turn first towards Lindon to the west. Perhaps he could find himself a good maiden there who was free of the disease of OCness.

Unfortunately, on checking the censuses in both the Havens and the late King Gil-galad's fortress, he discovered that there were no female elves that were not OCs in either of the realms. How tiresome!

"I do not believe it!" he said to himself when elegant Lord Galdor informed him that there were no maidens who were not OCs in Lindon. So he went down to the stables, searched for a horse that was not OC (he would not ride an OC horse!), and on finding one, knocked out its golden-haired owner. Legolas did not think anyone would miss him. After all, the elf was evil - he was both homosexual and had adopted the hallowed name of Glorfindel. Legolas left the motionless body on the stable floor, jumped on the gleaming white horse, and set off to ride up and down the coastline for the next few months, trawling for maidens without the mark of OC.

Nine months after his departure from the halls of the Elf-King of Mirkwood, six months and a bit after his departure from Lothlórien, he again had to admit defeat. He also had to admit the horse, who was named Asfaloth, was looking rather tired. Also, no longer white. Shoulders slumped, Legolas and Asfaloth both trudged wearily back to the fortress whereupon Legolas dropped off the wheezing and emaciated horse before leaving to head to the Hills of Evendim and in particular, a little spot called Woodhall, home of Lord Gildor and his OC folk.

But Gildor's realm, like all the other elven realms, also suffered - cripplingly so - from the disease of OCness in females.

"Why are so many females afflicted with the disease?" he ventured to ask of Gildor when the slender and kindly elf was showing him the way back to the Great East-West Road. Gildor was the only elf whom he deemed worthy of his company.

"I was not aware that it was a disease," Gildor said.

"Well you yourself have not wed," Legolas pointed out. "I assume that is because you share similar feelings towards OCs as I."

Gildor smiled and raised a pale hand to tuck a lock of hair behind his ear. "Well... um..." His gaze slid away, "...well..."

Legolas smiled broadly and reached out to pat him on the shoulder. "You are too modest and I agree with you completely, my friend. Those OC females are disgusting, diseased creatures and in my opinion, should all be shot."

"Mmm." Gildor took him by the arm and escorted him gently out of the scrub and onto the road. "Here is your path. You are headed back to Mirkwood, then?"

"Nay. To Imladris first. I heard from Lord Círdan of the Havens that Elrond has a most beautiful daughter named Arwen. She is unmarried too. I expect her lack of OCness must be due to good breeding. Her mother, Celebrían, is no OC. The same goes for Celeborn and Galadriel, and their sires as well. Perhaps OCness is genetic or perhaps, rather, a resistance to this terrible affliction is genetic?"

Gildor smiled weakly. "Aye, perhaps, Legolas, perhaps. I bid you well."

"Thank you." And so Legolas trotted onwards to the realm of Imladris. On being admitted, he went straight to the rooms of Lord Elrond, got down on hands and knees before the friendly and rather splendid looking figure, and said passionately, "Your Lordship, I beg of you to let me take Lady Arwen's hand in marriage."

Elrond did not respond so after a long while Legolas looked up. Then he frowned on discovering that he had been pleading his heart out to a pretty stone statue with a plaque called Elros in his hands. How tiresome. Why were there so many statues in Imladris? He rose and stalked off in search of the real live flesh and blood version of the friendly and splendid looking Elrond.

After a brief search, he found him in the garden with Lady Celebrían and Lady Arwen and another lady sitting at his feet. This was well because females should sit at the feet of males; it is good and proper. The half-elf was watching a merry dance and song by a very pretty minstrel named Lindir, patting his wife on the head, and resting his feet on the lap of the unknown lady. Legolas, once again, moved to kneel down in front of the half-elf, but before he could speak...

"Nay."

"Pardon?" Legolas looked up at the frowning half-elf, eyes wide. "But Lord Elrond, my father will pay any price." He rose and spread his hands entreatingly.

"My daughter…" Elrond waggled a hand in the direction of his daughter, his eyes glued on the antics of the beautiful Lindir, "…she not for sale." The half-elf's frown now deepened to a scowl as he leaned to one side to look around Legolas's body at the twisting, moving Lindir. "In addition, you very rude. You block my view."

"But why is your daughter not for sale?"

"Because I said so."

And that, in spite of Legolas's following cajoling and whining and pleading and crying, apparently was the end of the matter. Elrond was too fond of his daughter to let her be wed to him or any fellow for that matter. No explanation was forthcoming. That was the end of the matter.

"Come, come," Elrond said then, when Legolas's emergency store of false tears was running low, "I let Erestor escort you back to your rooms. Perhaps you will like Erestor. Very beautiful, very clean."

"Is she OC?"

"What? Nay, nay, Erestor is no filthy OC."

Legolas perked up a little on hearing that and he looked around eagerly. "Where is she?"

Elrond, with a broad smile, outstretched a long smooth hand towards the third and unnamed maiden sitting at his feet. "This is Erestor. See how pretty Erestor is. Long dark hair, pale skin, lovely long limbs. Very good, very good. Erestor will take you back to your rooms and there you will sleep and then tomorrow you will return to Mirkwood."

Legolas stared rapturously at the beautiful maiden. The light of... well not adoration, but rather triumph, shone from his eyes. "May I have her hand in marriage?"

"Perhaps. But only if you pay much, much money. Lots of mithril, understand?"

Legolas nodded vigorously. He outstretched a hand towards the beautiful dark-haired maiden. "Come, my lady."

"Call me Erestor," came the rather deep response. Legolas blinked. Then he smiled. Ah, well, he could cope with a deep voiced maiden. As long as she was not an OC. Perhaps he could even get her voice adjusted. He was sure that Elrond, with his healing hands, could raise Erestor's voice range to something more maidenly.

Erestor took his hand and rose and together they returned to the house. On the way to Legolas's rooms, Erestor said, "Your Highness, I hope you do not mean to wed me in truth."

"Why? But of course I do," Legolas said. "Why, are you adverse to becoming rich and adopting the title of Princess?" He felt his jaw set a little as a most disturbing thought suddenly occurred to him. Was this Erestor a thinker? Was this Erestor more intelligent than he was? He swallowed tightly and then opened his mouth to venture a question as to the extent of Erestor's education.

But Erestor spoke before he could speak. "I hope you realise that I am not a lady, Your Highness."

"I must chastise you for being so modest. You are lovely."

"I am not jesting, Your Lordship."

"And neither am I." Legolas smiled adoringly at his prize. "Why, you are so beautiful. And now you must tell me what you do in this little realm and how you occupy yourself when not attending to your singing and dancing and, most importantly, sewing of great war banners for your beloved males."

"When I am not attending to my duties, I read."

Legolas stopped dead. Oh, that was a most dangerous occupation for a maiden. It reeked of female superiority. It reeked of... well, he had never read a book in his life save for that little book about Nimrodel (who was single and not OC, but sadly both defiant and lost), which technically Galion had read to him, but anyway, it reeked of the idea that she might know more than him. He looked at her narrowly. "Now that occupation must cease, you realise? I cannot have a wife who reads."

"But Your Highness, I cannot be your wife anyway."

"Why? Do I displease you, Lady Erestor."

Erestor just shook his head and said with a deep frown. "Legolas, I am male. I am not female."

When Legolas did not say anything, Erestor grabbed his hand and put it where no proper male hand should ever go. Why, he brought it to his braids, which, when Legolas felt them and realised that they were done in a male braid, jumped back, his face very pale.

"Why, you are a nasty homosexual!" he exclaimed. "That is even worse than an OC."

"You have been misinformed," Erestor replied as he began taking off his dress to reveal dark, stern, black robes beneath. "The majority of cross dressers are heterosexual." He tossed the dress aside.

"I did not know that."

Erestor exhaled heavily and frowned at him. "It would seem you do not know much at all. There are no female elves in Imladris save for Arwen, who has refused you, and Celebrían, who is already wed, who are not OCs. Your search here is futile. I advise you to return to your own realm. Now I have a sick elf with grave concussion from a serious accident in Lindon to which I must attend in the healing rooms so with your permission, I will leave your presence."

Legolas nodded weakly. Erestor nodded firmly, turned and strode from his sight. Legolas, after dillying and dallying for a few moments longer in the corridor, finally turned and went to fetch his belongings. Then he left the realm to take the long disappointingly lonely journey back to the realm of the Elf-King of Northern Mirkwood. Wifeless, rebuked, and very much alone, and inwardly griping at the evils that had gripped the world in the form of OCness. It was Morgoth's fault. It was Sauron's fault. He swore vengeance against them as he stalked and then, as he grew more tired, dragged himself back to the forest.

And alone (happily for the females), he remains to this day. Alone, wifeless, rebuked, and still as prejudiced as the day on which he first set out to search for a wife. For as we all know, ideas not put in one's head by logic are seldom removed by logic, and Thranduil's sceptre has still not been remade.


End file.
